


Going Home

by jaimistoryteller



Series: Moments in Another Life [3]
Category: GoldenEye (1995), James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, M/M, Protective Double-O's, Protective Q, Transgender Q, character cameos
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-04
Updated: 2017-07-04
Packaged: 2018-11-23 13:43:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 7,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11403615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jaimistoryteller/pseuds/jaimistoryteller
Summary: The brothers are now rescued so it’s time to go home but things aren’t always that easy.





	1. Hands Off

**Author's Note:**

> Based on prompts from [General Prompt Table 10](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/post/162379048040/007-fest-prompt-tables)

Q’s POV

He is quite relieved that they are leaving the hellhole that Jared and him found themselves in. It’s not surprising when they exit the building to discover a massive of agents, some belonging to them, some belonging to other countries that he quickly identifies, even if they’re not his. He likes to know who to warn his agents about, only way to do that is to hack other organizations files. Besides, it’s good practice to get around firewalls and security. 

Currently Harold is the only person who has ever made something he couldn’t get into. Although he doesn’t admit to his brother that he did once, made a very small alteration to the Machine, he made himself and Jared as invisible to records as Harold. 

He’s just letting Alec guide him, lost in his thoughts when they are suddenly brought to a stop by someone grabbing Alec’s arm and yelling, “Traitor!”

His attention immediately snaps to the person, and he pivots on the ball of his feet to face them. INTERPOL agent, Brice Arsenault, decent record, not an overachiever but steady. Would have known Alec before the messes known as Arkhangelsk and GoldenEye.

“Get your hands off him,” he hissed.

Every single agent and personal that works with or for him takes a step back. The Double-O’s in attendance, of which he can spot close to everyone of them not on a mission right now, don’t move as they watch with narrow eyes, hands hovering over their weapons. 

Arsenault doesn’t let go. 

He’s actually proud of Alec for not decking the man, that wouldn’t help in this situation. 

“This will be the last time I say this: get your hands off him.” His voice is cool and his eyes narrow, already figuring out the best way to deal with Arsenault if the idiot is not smart enough to back off. 

The agent dithers, glancing between him and the others, then doing a double take when Arsenault realizes that every single set of eyes is on him. “He’s a trait-” 

He doesn’t let the man finish his statement before his heel comes down on the top of the agent’s foot as his left hand uppercuts the idiot in the jaw. 

Immediately Arsenault let's go and hops back, glaring at him. When it looks like the agent is going to make a try for him, each and every Double-O has their weapon levied on the man before he can finish the motion. It freezes him in horrified stillness as his eyes dart around. 

“I’ve had a long day, go do your job and clean up the mess, according to what I heard there should be at least five people worth arresting around. Luckily for you.” He states before turning back towards the parking area and easily spotting Alec’s car. 

It is absolute silence as he starts back to walking, his brother breaks it with a low chuckle, snorting at the scene. 

“Q, I don’t think you’re supposed to break INTERPOL agent’s feet, that’s our job.” Moore comments, amusement lacing her voice.

He snorts, retorting, “I considered using his own gun to shoot him, but figured that might be considered a bit extreme.”

Jared’s low chuckle becomes a full out laugh. 

“You’ve always been a bit extreme when making a point Q,” Alec remarks softly, hand resting lightly on his spine as they keep moving.

He just shrugs. He can’t deny that fact. 


	2. Time to Leave

Alec’s POV

He’s not used to seeing Q so lethargic and pliant. Normally the younger man is energetic and always moving, even if only in small ways. The only time he goes still is when he is exhausted or getting ready to attack.

Since the genius is exhausted, he’ll make damned sure no one bothers the younger man between now and when they get home.

Only that doesn’t go as planned because an INTERPOL agent he vaguely recognizes from his days as a spy, grabs his arm and shouts, “Traitor!” drawing the attention of every person surrounding them.

His first instinct is to knock the man out but he doesn’t know the people around him and don’t know how they’d react. He has to keep Q’s safety in mind. So he goes still instead, eyes narrowing as he considers exactly what he should do next.

Eyes narrowed in anger, the dark haired genius turns towards the agent and orders that the man release him. When it is not immediately obeyed, Q’s voice goes soft, some would even call it gentle, but it’s viciously cold, making his instincts flare up because this is a person used to being obeyed. When he’s not obeyed, Q moves in startling flurry, using the steel heel of his boot and his hand to encourage the INTERPOL agent to back the fuck off.

Out of the corner of his eye he watches as the clean up crew and the agents all take a step back. None of the Double-O’s move, and he recognizes them by the way each goes still with a hand near their weapon.

The idiot INTERPOL agent starts to say something to Q, only to be cut off and threatened by those same Double-O's with deadly sincerity.

As they resume their walk back to the car, he hears one of the male Double-O’s cheerfully remark, “Ever threaten our Q again, and they won’t find the pieces.”

“Make the windows dark please,” the younger man murmurs as he slips into the back seat, curling up and going to sleep.

Jared slips in beside his brother.

The two Double-O’s that had come with him are having a glaring match, probably to figure out who's going to sit next to the brothers. The woman wants to but the man is being stubborn about it.

“Bond sit your ass down in the front, Moore you’re next to Jared, now close the fucking door so I don’t have to deal with the sunshine and can get some sleep,” Q snaps from where he is curled up without opening his eyes.

Jared starts laughing again, shaking his head with an amused smile.

He slips into the car behind the wheel and waits for the two spies to get in. A few minutes later they’re off. He’ll take the quickest route to Michael’s house since he is not revealing to the spies in the car where Q actually lives since he knows the younger man keeps his real address off file.


	3. Noticing

James’ POV

There’s something familiar about the man that’s driving the car on the rescue to fetch Q. He doesn’t know what, and as Moore said, he doesn’t care. If Q trusts him, that’s what matters. Particularly as he knows Q isn’t what anyone would call trusting. 

When they get to where Q informed them he’d be, all three check their weapons as they slide out. 

The driver plants bullets in the guards heads before they even have a chance to react, it is nearly silent despite the fact he doesn’t see a silencer. So it must be a Q special. 

Sncikering, Moore murmurs, “You’ve done this before.”

“Not for him, but yes,” their driver agrees, rolling his shoulders a bit before taking aim and getting two more that were just coming around the corner. 

It takes him a minute to remember the earpiece that he had taken out and he actually shoves it back in to listen to the soft voice giving directions without hesitation. 

‘ _I would be more comfortable if you would stop shooting them in the head._ ’ The man states calmly. ‘ _Mr. Reese assures me that’s not happening._ ’

“He’d be right. I don’t take well to people that are a threat to Q.” The taller man replies softly.

‘ _Yes. Well,_ ’ the handler hums. ‘ _There is at least sixteen people in the building currently not counting my brothers or two other prisoners._ ’

“The clean up crew can deal with the other prisoners, I’m only here for my troublemaker and his idiot brother.” The driver states clearly before targeting and firing at another set just as Moore zones in her own and he gets a third set. 

Their guns are quiet, but not as quiet as their companions and they soon have company. A lot of company. Including a face he never expected to see again. Not that he actually gets to see that face for too long before three bullets kill his foster-brother. 

A moment later he is shooting the man behind Blofield between the eyes and watching as he goes down. 

‘ _You’ve just killed the head of this mess and his,_ ’ there is hesitation as if the wording is uncertain, ‘ _companion._ ’

“Excellent,” there is satisfaction in the words, before the taller man’s voice goes hard. “Now where’s Q and Jared?” 

‘ _Patience, Mr. Trevelyan. Their system is surprisingly slow considering the fact that second man is like us._ ’ The handler orders calmly, voice smooth as a storm. 

It’s the same sort of tone he has heard out of Q on more occasions than he cares to count. It’s the voice of someone who knows exactly what they are talking about and expects to be listened to. 

Carefully they make their way through the building, dealing with the stragglers as they go. 

‘ _Turn left, they’re in the last cell._ ’ The handler informs them. 

All three make a beeline for it, though it’s Trevelyan who slips inside first, heading directly for Q who is leaning lazily against a wall with a rather good looking dark haired man with a definite family resemblance beside him. 

“We’re going to have a chat about this later,” the tall man informs Q as his hands skim over the smaller man, concern written in green eyes that he can just barely see. 

“Thank you Harold, now go away, I’ll call later,” Q comments as he smiles at Trevelyan. 

‘ _Please make sure that both of my brothers make it back to London in one piece,_ ’ the handler, Harold he’s assuming, requests before the line goes silent. 

He shares a quick look with Moore, who is staring at Q and Trevelyan with enthrallment. What’s so interesting about it? He wonders until he actually puts the actions in context. Q’s letting this man touch him, in what many would consider an intimate fashion without telling him to stop touching. There is something special between them, caring or affection, probably both if their reactions are anything to go by. 

The soft smile on the dark haired genius’ lips is rare. 

The spell seems to be broken when the second dark haired man, Jared, he’s guessing, remarks, “Get reacquainted later, he needs sleep since he is a stubborn snot who managed to stay awake the entire time we have been here.” 

Like that, the smile is gone, but there is amusement in Q’s voice as he reasons, “No way in hell was I sleeping after discovering the second why. Now then, I want a shower, to home we go.”

“I’m sure we could find a nice hotel to rent a room or three in,” Jared suggests as their small group heads towards the exit. 

“Nope, because that doesn’t come with my clean clothes.” Q retorts, just the hints of an edge to his voice. “ _Home._ ”

Q is flanked by Jared and Trevelyan, while Moore and him take up the front and rear respectively.

Outside as they are confronted by an INTERPOL agent who apparently knows Trevelyan and really doesn’t like him. Despite how exhausted and the lack of focus Q seems to have, the instance there is a threat to Trevelyan, the dark haired genius reacts. 

When the INTERPOL agent looks like he’s going to threaten Q, all six Double-O’s that he can see besides himself pulls their weapons on the man. That gets the immediate reaction of getting the agent to back off. 

He just smirks in amusement, wondering why the others are here and actually knowing the real answer to that. The Q-Branch minions aren’t the only ones who love their Overlord. It’d definitely be for the greater good if they dealt with the agent in the quickest method possible. None of them really care about an international incident. He’s definitely not the only one here who likes to destroy people as much as places. 

This definitely adds another layer to the mystery known as Q. 


	4. To the Office

Q’s POV

He sleeps, curled up beside his brother and behind Alec. He knows they will not allow anything to happen to him. They are two of the four people he trusts without question in this world. There is a part of his mind that points out that he should try trusting Bond and Moore but he’s too tired to think about why he does or doesn’t. 

Jared lightly touches his shoulder, murmuring, “We’re almost to uncle’s.”

His eyes flicker open as he nods, “Good.”

“We’re supposed to stay with you until you report to the office.” Moore remarks from the other side of his brother. 

Stretching, he tips his head to the side and studies her, absently pushing his glasses up as he does so. “Shower, change, office, home. Got it.”

Now that he’s more awake he thinks about the fact that there were seven of his Double-O’s there. He’s quite sure they weren’t all sent by Mallory. That means they came on their own. More than that, they were willing to back him up without orders when it came to Arsenault. Why? He doesn’t understand the logic behind that. They don’t trust him all that much, if they did, they’d listen to him better. Although he does have the best success rate as a handler than the ones that actually are handlers regularly. The Double-O’s are a rowdy bunch but that doesn’t phase him. 

When the car comes to a stop outside his uncle’s place, he is out before the spies have anything to say. He really does need a shower before his brain will be fully functioning. 

“We’re having a chat, as soon as you’re not claimed by someone else for one, about the foolishness of your actions.” His uncle states quite clearly. Meeting his eyes and frowning as the older man waves him towards the upstairs. 

He can hear the other four enter the house behind him. 

Shaking his head, he heads directly for his room here, grabbing a change of clothes out of his dresser and beelining for the bathroom. A few minutes later when he climbs under the hot water, he sighs in relief, just letting it run over his skin. He relaxes for a few minutes before grabbing his soap and washing off the remaining grime. 

Once he feels clean again, he lets the water run over him while he thinks about Alec’s reaction. He can’t remember his friend ever being that handsy with him. Absently he rubs at his wrists as he thinks of the worried glaze in green eyes.  It’s not an expression he can remember seeing before. They should probably talk about it. First though, he has to deal with Mallory. That ought to be fun. 

Sighing, he turns the water off and grabs his towel to get dried off. Best get this down with sooner than later so he can collapse in his bed and nap for a while. Maybe he’ll just take a nap on his sofa at work instead when he’s done with his boss. It’ll depend on how long it takes him. 


	5. Headache

M’s POV

He’s pretty certain that screaming is not the right option, even if it feels like it really should be. Why did not one or two but seven of the Double-O’s decided to meet up in order to get Q back? One would have done the job, hell two was overkill. But seven of them? That’s nerve wracking. To add to it, he just got off the phone with his contact in INTERPOL who is dealing with a very upset agent over the fact those seven Double-O’s threatened the INTERPOL agent.

What in the hell does the younger man have on the agents that they would work together so seamlessly when normally they don’t in order to get him back? 

R notifies him when the agents are back in the city, but for some reasons they do not come directly here. That’s probably Q’s doing as well. He’ll give them an hour. If they’re not here by then, there will be hell to pay. 

Meanwhile, he’s going to look into Alec Trevelyan and the files on the man since that is the entire reason for the confrontation regarding the INTERPOL agent. He already has Tanner collecting the files for him. 

There is a firm knock at the door before the Chief of Staff slips in carrying two different files and frowning at both. 

“Something wrong?” he queries, having a sinking feeling that things are about to get a lot more messy. 

“There’s two files and there should only be one.” Tanner answers as he continues to skim them, crossing the space slowly to set them on the desk. “Pretty sure that the second file is a false one, but I know the information from it is real as it was used in several missions and situations. All of the people in them are dead.” 

He bites back a groan, understanding that that’s definitely an issue. 

The next hour is spent going over the information provided, realizing he won’t be able to go through it all before Q gets there. There is just too much of it. 

‘ _Q’s here,_ ’ Eve tells him using the intercom. 

“Send him in,” he answers as he closes the folder. 

The door opens and the quartermaster slips in silently, taking a seat and waiting patiently for him to start speaking. He’s struck by how young the dark haired man is. 

“Do I even want to know what you were thinking?” He asks as he grabs the shot glasses and pours them drinks. That seems to be the best method of dealing with Q. Although at this rate he’s going to become an alcoholic so maybe he should start keeping non-alcoholic drinks around.

“The plan was going smashingly until an unexpected event interfered.” Q answers as he takes the cup. “I had a contingency plan. It worked too.”

“You’re supposed to be _less_ trouble than the Double-O’s, not _more._ ” He retorts as he toys with his glass but doesn’t drink it. 

Shrugging, the younger man replies, “I didn’t expect them to come for me. Not one or two or all seven not currently on a mission.”

Taking a deep breath, he nods slowly but still doesn’t empty his glass. “Tell me about Trevelyan.” 

Something flickers behind the glasses in gray amber eyes that seem to shift colors instantly. “He’s been a family friend since I was barely an adult. As both him and my uncle know each other, he was offered somewhere to stay after being declared ‘dead’ a second time.”

That wasn’t the answer that he expected. Nowhere near the answer that he expected. 

“Is he a traitor?” He asks slowly, deciding to see what the younger man has to say on that matter. 

Q’s head tips up, and he gets the impression the younger man would be looking down his nose at him if it wasn’t for the fact he is almost glaring over the glasses rims instead. He’s sure in a different situation Q’s expression would be amusing but not right now. 

“No.” His voice is firm, blunt, and brokers no argument as the boffin responds. 

His instincts tell him to trust Q’s assuredness. Of the executives he deals with, Q is the one that has the most hands on time with the Double-O’s and other agents. He doesn’t tolerate people who are problems and will deal with them as soon as report them. Because of that fact the young quartermaster has the respect and trust of nearly every Double-O and agent that works in the building. Those who don’t respect him, or show their disdain for him find themselves having issues with the rest. That’s before counting the support staff. 

“I can assume you trust him,” for all fact the words are a question, his tone makes it clear it’s a statement instead.

“Yes,” a small smile plays at the edge of the younger man’s lips. “I trust him. I’ve trusted him longer than anyone else I know and he’s never done something to break that trust.” 

Nodding, he downs his glass as he thinks about that. Q hasn’t broken his trust, he’s just dented it a bit because of not trusting him. Although he’s got a feeling it wasn’t actually a lack of trust that caused the younger man to go outside the office for assistance. He’s just not sure why. It’s frustrating. Events could have gone horribly wrong and the people who had him could have tried to break him. 

“What would you have done if they tried breaking you?” He asks as he sets the glass down, forcing himself not to drum his fingers. 

Smiling wistfully, Q answers, “If they had tried to break me, they would have found it harder than expected as I am good at submerging myself in my mind and forgetting my body, even when under intense pain.” 

He doesn’t want to know how the quartermaster knows that. 

“Now, I’ve only had a few hours of car sleep, I’d like to go home.” Q tells him softly, “I’ll be writing up a full report on the situation and how it was resolved.” 

“Good. We will discuss this further tomorrow morning.” He agrees as he waves towards the door in a dismissal. 

It’s not until after the quartermaster leaves that he realizes that the younger man hadn’t touched the drink, just played with the cup. 


	6. Pellets

Q’s POV

He’s not surprised to find Alec waiting for him as he exits the building. It’d have been a bigger surprise if his friend wasn’t there considering. 

“Wanna ride?” The ex-spy asks, lips twitching in a smile since they both know it’s not actually a question. 

“I could use one,” he muses playfully, grinning at his friend as he slips in the passenger seat. 

“Your place or mine?” Alec queries as he puts the car in gear and pulls out. 

“Mine, I need to replace my implants,” he answers as he closes his eyes and rests his head. 

He can practically hear the question buzzing between them, but is relieved  that his friend doesn’t actually ask. 

A bit later they are at his flat’s parking garage and getting out of the car. He hums softly as they make their way up stairs past the security guards who are well aware of his use of the stairs instead of the lift. 

At the door, he uses the discrete biometrics scanner to let them.

“Could you make tea?” he requests as he kicks his shoes off. 

“Yeah, and something to snack on since you slept through the rest of us eating.” Alec agrees as he heads towards the kitchen. 

He smiles fondly as he heads towards his room to get his tester. If he’s not mistaken, he’s two days late for adding the new pellets. Of course this shit had to go wrong as he was running low. It’d have been too easy to wait until afterwards or to just not go wrong. Sure enough, a few drops of blood and spit later, he’s definitely not where he needs to be on the scale. That explains why he is aching right now. 

He grabs the supplies, tugging his pants and slacks down to get to the site where he normally puts the pellets but finds he’s got a case of the shakes. 

Sighing, he sets them aside and tugs his clothes back in their normal position before deciding to change into his sweats. It’s as he changes that he realizes he could ask Alec to do it. His friend isn’t the  squeamish sort. 

Collecting up the supplies, he takes them out to the living room with him, suddenly feeling nervous when he is actually face to face with the ex-spy. 

Spotting his expression, Alec asks worriedly, “Something wrong?”

“I, ummm,” he sets the stuff down on his counter, shifting foot to foot as he tries to find the words. “I need to put more pellets in my hip, but I’m shaking. Can you put them in?” it comes out as a rush of words that is barely understandable if his friend’s narrowed eyes and furrowed brow are anything to go by. 

He’s starting to think that it was a bad idea to ask, as the silence seems to drag on. He should definitely just deal with the aching and pain and then make an appointment with the doctor he rarely sees. 

Just as he goes to scoop the stuff off the counter and bolt to his room, Alec’s hand covers his, drawing his attention. 

“I can help, you just gotta tell me how.” The sardonyx blonde answers softly, watching him closely. 

Swallowing nervously, he nods before pointing at each thing he dropped on the counter and explaining their use. 

There is a combination of focus and determination in the ex-spy’s eyes as he listens, then slowly repeats everything back to make sure he got it right. 

“Now or after you eat?” Alec queries as his hand hovers over the local anesthetic. 

“Now, if I do it after I eat I’ll end up with an upset stomach. Learned that the hard way.” He answers as he pushes his sweats down a bit to reveal the scar line where the last insert was. 

When Alec doesn’t do anything, he glances at the sardonyx blonde, startled by the look on the older man’s face. It’s somewhere between disbelief and reverence. It’s just his hip, he’s not sure what’s so important about that? 

“Alec?” He murmurs curiously. 

“Sorry,” his friend mutters, picking up the anesthetic and carefully applying it to the area around the previous scar line. 

They’re both quiet as Alec works. Calloused fingers gentle against his skin. It feels rather intimate, though he’s not sure why. It doesn’t feel like this when the doctor does it or when he does it for himself. 

Afterwards, once his new scar line has been carefully glued shut and a plaster is covering it, he finds himself situated in the nest of blankets and pillows on the sofa, a cup of steaming tea in his hands and a plate of food on his lap. 

“Thank you,” he states softly, catching Alec’s gaze and holding it as he smiles. 

“Anytime,” the sardonyx blonde replies as he settles on the sofa. 

He smiles as he sips at his tea, snuggling into his best friend’s side and just relaxing.


	7. Bothersome

James’ POV

It bothers him exactly how at ease Q is with Trevelyan. He can’t put a name to why it bothers him. Not right off. When he does, it’s rather embarrassing because what right does he have to be jealous of someone that Q obviously knows and trusts? 

He kept expecting the younger man to pull away and hiss at Trevelyan the way he had at Williams but it never happened. There was no angry or hissed comments about no touching. There was nothing but quiet acceptance. Something he really doesn’t get. 

There has to be a way to prove that he’s actually trustworthy enough to be allowed casual touches. The very thing that the younger man generally side steps or gets tense after. 

Q’s like a puzzle he wants an answer to, not that he actually expects to get one. For every answer he’s gotten there have been ten more he hasn’t. 

Once everyone is in the car, Q curls into his brother’s side and is asleep nearly instantly, or so it seems until the smallest one in their group orders them where to sit without opening his eyes. 

The trip is quiet, for all there is five people in the car. He’s got the impression that Jared is watching and weighing the motives of Moore and himself. 

They stop twice on the way back to London. Once for food and once for bathroom breaks. Through both the boffin continues to sleep. At no point is he left alone since either Jared or Trevelyan stays nearby. 

‘ _Bond?_ ’ R’s familiar voice queries, probably checking to see if he has his earwig in. 

“Yes?” he replies as he stretches a bit. 

‘ _Mallory wants a word-’_ she goes silent. 

A second voice, one he’s only heard while at Q-Branch comes on the line, ‘ _M would like a word  with Q as soon as you’re back._ ‘ She informs him softly. ‘ _He’s also calling a conference of the Double-O’s._ ’ It’s almost an afterthought when the messenger mutters, ‘ _I don’t think that will go the way he hopes._ ’

“Probably not,” he hums in agreement, “It never does when it comes to us.”

‘ _Hello again, Mr. Bond.’_ R comments as the other one gets off the line. ‘ _Yes. Well. He’s not pleased about the fact seven of you decided to fetch him without clearing it first. Then to hear that Q nearly caused an international incident, you can guess he’s not in a good mood._ ’ She comments dryly, as if it’s an  everyday occurrence that the quartermaster would nearly cause an international incident or the Double-O section would fetch him without orders. 

He just snickers, not bothering to reply. 

The rest of the trip goes smoothly, just as quiet as the first half. 

Jared wakes Q up as they pull into the drive, murmuring something too soft to be heard. 

A moment later the younger man is awake and stretching, back arching and shoulders rolling as he does so. 

“Good,” the boffin mumbles. 

Moore states, “We’re supposed to stay with you until you report to the office,” calmly, which lets him know that R spoke with her as well. 

Pushing his glasses up, Q glances between them before shrugging as he stretches again. “Shower, change, office, home. Got it.”

He just nods, not commenting. 

When they get out, he finds himself watching the way Trevelyan and Q interact, the casual contact and light touches that doesn’t fail to startle him, and according to the way Moore is watching, it is a shocker to her too. Does she want the quartermaster? He doesn’t think Q’s her type but then she has a very open sort of type so it’s possible he is.

“He likes people he knows he can depend on. It took years for him to get to that point with Alec, you’ve had what, a year to know him?” Jared remarks as the other two head inside while they are still on the sidewalk. 

His eyes narrow on the tall man, not appreciating the implication. 

“It’s not that, well, not totally, he’s normally aloof. He’ll save our arses in any way possible, but he doesn’t connect, not that I can tell.” Moore replies as she glances between him, Jared and the door. 

“Still, seeing is believing with him.” Jared states before heading inside the house. 

“It was spectacular to see so many of us working together. Most the time, they can’t get two of us to work together, let alone seven,” Moore muses curiously as they go inside. 

She’s definitely got a point about that. It’s actually another thing he’ll question later. For whatever reason, there seems to be a lot more questions than answers going on. He doesn’t like it. 

He stays just inside the front door, giving himself a chance to replay how the last thirty-six hours played out from the moment he realized Q was gone until now. Trevelyan moves as if he was a Double-O or belonged to the CIA. It's quiet and firm but determined. The taller man is protective of Q, not just slightly protective either but fully protective. 

When the quartermaster comes to the door a bit later, hair fluffy from the towel and wearing comfortable looking clothes where everything is once more hidden behind layers, he wonders what exactly Q’s hiding. Is he hiding from people or is there something else? 

“I saw Moore’s car next to Alec’s, let’s get going so I can get home. Car sleep has nothing on comfy bed sleep.” Q declares as he stops just short of the door. 

“Harold wants a word in person, so I’m catching a flight out,” Jared comments as he comes to stand beside his brother. 

Q glances up at the taller brunette and nods in understanding. “‘Kay, say hello to our brother for me.” 

“Will do, stay out of trouble.” Jared replies, giving the smaller brunette a half hug. 

“You get in more trouble than me usually.” The quartermaster retorts playfully. 

Yet another person that Q touches without question. Although they’re siblings, and apparently pretty close, so that makes sense. 

Trevelyan appears in the door, nodding at the younger brunette and getting a smile in response. 

Moore appears beside him, opening the door, and waving him through. 

The trip to MI6 is quiet, Q takes the place in the back, watching out the window thoughtfully. 

When they get there, the younger man tells them, “Thanks,” as he slides out and heads inside without waiting for them. 

“Why do I feel like we’re missing something?” Moore mutters as they close the doors. 

“Because we are,” he agrees as they head in, going to medical because they’ve both been ordered there. 

“Well, I’m sure we’ll figure it out eventually, we’re good at that.” She comments quietly, firmly. 

He’s sure they will. He doesn’t like to have so many mysteries about one person. He likes to know. Something he doesn’t seem to currently since there keeps being so many more questions than answers. That’s alright, he likes the challenge. 


	8. Cuddles

Q’s POV

After they finish eating he goes from awake to almost asleep. Exhaustion hitting nearly instantly.

“I’m tired,” he mumbles, snuggling into the blankets and pillows, head resting on Alec’s arm.

“Come on you, let's get you in bed,” his friend suggests, nudging him gently.

“Sorry we missed dancing night,” he mutters sleepily, grumbling as he’s nudged again.

Laughing softly, Alec stands up, leaning over to scoop him up.

He just snuggles closer.

When the sardonyx blonde goes to lay him on the bed, he curls his fingers in Alec’s shirt, not wanting to let go and wanting the older man to stay with him.

“Let go Q,” his friend murmurs, hand laying over his and slowly uncurling his fingers.

“Don’t want to,” he mumbles, not opening his eyes.

“Where’s the cats?” Alec queries out of the blue.

A little more alert but still wanting to sleep, he answers, “Next door. I told Sofie I was going to be working this week.” He doesn’t appreciate the fact it comes out as a plea rather than a demand when he says, “Stay. Cuddle with me.”

Calloused fingers gently remove his glasses and he hears the soft click of them being set on the night stand.

“Let me go clean up the mess Q, I’ll come back.” There is something to Alec’s voice that he hasn’t heard in a long while. If he wasn’t so tired, he’d try and figure out what it is.

Instead he snuggles into the blankets, letting go even though he doesn’t want to but trusting that Alec will come back. His friend always comes back and always comes for him. He knew it even before he was aware how long they had been gone that the ex-spy would stop at nothing to find him.

A little bit later he feels the bed dip slightly as Alec settles on the other side.

He doesn’t wait for an invitation, instead he scoots closer and tucks himself in along the sardonyx blonde’s side, throwing an arm over narrow hips and going to back to sleep listening to Alec’s heartbeat.

oOoOoOo

Alec’s POV

There is a part of him that feels like he is taking advantage of Q by staying when the younger man is so clearly out of it. Yet he could no more leave than he would have been able to not find the hacker. This isn’t the first time he’s been asked to cuddle. Probably won’t be the last. It doesn’t stop him from worrying that one of these days that Q will tell him to go away and never touch him again.

That would kill him, he’s sure, to lose that small connection.

He was surprised when Q asked for help with the implants. Walking him through the process and trusting him with a knife to vulnerable skin. It means more than he could ever express to receive that sort of trust. The only other person he can remember even coming close to trusting him like that was James. His James, the previous 007, not the current one.

He falls asleep to Q’s weight firm against him and listening to the younger man breathing.

He wakes up a few hours later, needing to pee but not wanting to move because he’s comfortable and his companion is still sleeping. So he just lays there, listening to the younger man breath, huffing softly every so often.

A smile tugs at his lips at the innocence of it all. The simple pleasure and quiet joy. Yes, he was concerned when they missed their night to go out and dance until dawn, but that’s happened before, so it wasn’t a big deal. It was more concerning when the following morning he got the notice from the automated email.

He was terrified they wouldn’t make it in time, and he was relieved when they did. Never would he have considered asking MI6 for help. He would have dealt with it on his own, and he has plenty of skill to do so. When they got the brothers back, he could no more stop himself from checking Q for injuries than he could have stopped himself from taking a breath.

He’s sure he crossed a line with that, and once the younger man is back to normal that line will be confronted, but for now he’s just going to enjoy the cuddling and closeness while he can.


	9. Waking Up

Q’s POV

The hours after Alec showed up with Moore and Bond are a bit blurry. He can’t actually remember what happened. His hip has the slight sting that follows inserting the pellets, so he must have done it after he got home, he just doesn’t remember it. Right now he is toasty warm, which is rather unusual as he spends most the time cold. 

Slowly opening his eyes, he finds his head resting on a familiar chest and smiles, whatever else happened, Alec took care of him. His friend always takes care of him. 

There is a lingering question he can’t quite make out as he stretches and rolls off the bed, nearly stumbling because he forgot to kick off the blankets first. Only his bladder is instinsting he head to the bathroom right now. 

“Q?” there is worry in Alec’s tone, and a  touch of fear. Why would Alec be afraid? 

“Loo,” he mutters as he gets his feet under him and heads to the bathroom. A few minutes later he emerges and smiles as his nose catches the scent of coffee brewing, which means the ex-spy has his water heating as well for tea. 

“My turn,” Alec hums as he passes, their arms brushing against each other. 

He finds his glasses on his night stand and puts them on, having the world come back into focus. 

What was it that he needed to ask Alec about? He knows there was something, it was important too. Very important. 

Shaking his head, he tugs his sweats down to look at the incision, hoping he hadn’t totally screwed it up in his tired state. He pulls the plaster off and he's surprised to see a very fine line, definitely not his work. At least not on himself. Did he ask Alec to do it? His friend has always been good about the fact he’s transgender, but this is a bit more personal than just knowing. 

“Q?” He turns, tugging his sweats back up as he does so. 

“Thank you,” he states, meeting his friend’s concerned green eyes. “It looks better than any time I do it.” 

A relieved smile plays at the edges of Alec’s lips as he inclines his head slightly, “Water should be ready.”

He grins, “Your coffee too, if my nose isn’t mistaken.” 

Quietly they head to the kitchen where he leans against the counter as he watches Alec make his tea. He totally could have, but he likes the domesticity of this. It feels right. 

“Thank you for coming for me,” he says as he takes the cup, their fingers lightly brushing and a flash of memory filling his mind, reminding him of how Alec had carefully checked him for injuries, worried over the bruises to his wrists. 

That’s right. It felt intimate. Then there was the reassuring hand on the small of his back as they left. The tea and testosterone last night. The cuddling in bed. Alec came back when he asked rather than leave. It feels like there’s been a change. 

How does he want to deal with it?

“Always Q,” Alec’s voice is gentle, sincere, rough with something he has a hard time putting a name to, but he’d wager it’s more than just affection. 

Setting his mug down, he steps closer, tipping his head to the side, and absently pushing his glasses back up. “Alec?” his voice is lower than he’s used to, tinged with need. 

“Yeah?” There is something breathless to that word, a flurry of questions all summed up in a quiet question. 

“Kiss me?” He replies, watching green eyes to make sure there isn’t any sign of disgust or disinterested. All he can see is burning emotion, stark need tempered by love. 

Calloused fingers carefully cup his jaw as the older man tips his head slightly in the other direction before slotting their lips together gently. 

He’s not sure what to do with his hands, so he slides them up Alec’s firm chest and over his shoulders to sink his fingers into soft hair. This is nice, they should have been doing this sooner. Why weren’t they doing this sooner? 

It seems like it goes on forever and not nearly long enough before they break apart, simply breathing each other in.

“Don’t go,” he whispers when Alec’s hands start to drop. 

“I wasn’t planning on it,” his best friend answers, hands dropping to his waist and pulling them flush together before kissing him again. 

This is definitely right. The perfect reason to tell everyone else not to touch him. Not when he had what he needed all along, he just didn’t realize it. They’ll have to talk about this later, but for now he doesn’t have anywhere he needs to be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Publishing schedule, I will try & update one or two stories on Saturday, Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. For the 007 Fest there will be at least one Bond related story each day of the month of July. 
> 
> Tumblr about my writing [JaimiStoryTeller](http://jaimistoryteller.tumblr.com/money) and recently got a twitter to post about drawing & writing @jaimist0
> 
> I love reviews, comments, and any other sort of communication, feel free to stop in to say hi


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